"We have found Danilo ... in his old lodgings. Can you guess what has happened?"
She had known at once. Had intuition or the look in Stillman's eyes betrayed the dreadful secret? Since then only scant messages had come to her from the sick-room. Danilo still lay in his Third Street lodgings; his doctors had been afraid to risk moving him. Stillman had not left his side. Claire begged to be allowed to go to him, to see him if only for the briefest of moments, but Stillman had been obdurate.
"He must have no excitement. The doctor would not hear of such a thing. No, you must wait."
"But you are with him.... Do you realize...."
"Yes."
She said no more ... but she had suffered! Three long, unending days! And now he had asked for her. She could not define the emotion which moved her. Was it relief, or fear, or a sad hope? She dressed herself long before the appointed time, in a cool, pleasant-looking white-serge suit that had been intended for the trousseau. Miss Proll, coming upon her in the hall, gave a disapproving glance.
"I couldn't wear black!" Claire explained. "I simply couldn't!..."
"Ah yes, of course! You are right."
Her lips quivered when she finally faced Stillman.
"You are in white, I see," he said, with an air of gentle approval. "I am glad of that! It makes everything seem more cheerful."